The Sun Will Rise
by ImprisonedByTechnology
Summary: It hurts Fleur to hear people calling them the Beauty and the Beast. It hurts her even more to see Bill slowly crumbling apart with shame, anger and pain. For the Ultimate OTP Competition.


"Mum! Mum! Look at that guy's scars!"

"Don't point at_ him_, Tony," says the mother of the child, putting his pointing arm down and glancing quickly at Bill. "Come on, I'll take you to Florean's Fortescue."

Fleur frowns, her magic reacting violently around her. Bill, noticing the sudden avian features on her face, puts an arm around her shoulders.

"Calm down, love," he says, his voice as loving as usual without showing any anger about the kid and his mother.

Fleur looks at him with annoyance. She hates when they hear something like that and Bill shrugs it off.

"Don't you _ever_ get tired of it?"

Bill takes his eyes away from her, choosing to look the sun setting down behind the shops. He doesn't answer, but a hand goes up to his earring.

Fleur bites her lip. Everytime Bill does that little movement it's because he wants to touch the scars on his face but doesn't dare to.

"Bill, you're a hero," she tells him with exasperation. "You saved children's lives that day, and you got hurt. There's no need to pretend it never happened because it _did_."

Her words come out in a whisper, almost getting lost in the surrounding sounds of laughter of the Alley, but Bill hears them. His eyes turn dark and he scratches his hand with strong, werewolf-like nails that cut his skin.

Fleur exhales sharply and grabs his hand to stop him from hurting himself. "Don't."

His blue eyes (so expressive and open) look back at her; Fleur watches as he challenges her.

"You said it didn't bother you," said Bill in a low voice, almost as if trying to let the air drown his muttered words.

It hurts Fleur to hear Bill say those words. It feels as if she isn't doing enough to help; not enough to relieve his wounds. She feels devastated when Bill looks down, trying to make himself smaller.

"What bothers me is your refusal to talk about that," she continues, despising herself for making Bill so vulnerable, but pushing him to talk about it. Fleur is sure this will help him, in the long run.

"This isn't a conversation for a place like this, Fleur," Bill tells her. "Let's get Vic's kneazle and go home."

Fleur accepts his suggestion and they continue their shopping.

The bags that Fleur carries get lighter and lighter as her mind becomes heavier with the thoughts of her husband's issues. He isn't a werewolf, for Merlin's sake! He just has scars and almost everyone who fought in the war has some. Even she, the so-called Beauty from this play, has a scar running down from her hip to her knee.

"You know how I feel about this, Fleur," he tells her once they're at home, after making sure the kids won't hear a thing of their discussion.

She glares at him, letting her eyes portray all the anger she feels towards the people who look at him like he's a monster.

"Yes, Bill, I know how you feel," she says, her throat hurting and her voice dangerously low. "You are depressed, Bill, don't try to deny it. I've seen your anxiety when we're outside and people stare at you. I've seen how you hurt yourself every time someone whispers about your condition. You lock yourself for hours, Bill, and not only during _those nights_, but everyday! You're throwing your life away and I won't stand idle while you do it!"

Her wrath took hold of her body, making her pace around the light-blue room. Bill stares besides the couch, looking down but listening to her.

"Don't you understand, that you hurt me too?"

She looks at him when she says that, and for the first time in a long time, Bill raises his eyes to meet hers. He never does that when the topic of_ that_ wolf's attack comes out, but this time, Bill lashes out.

"No, Fleur, you don't understand," he starts. His eyes become golden and Fleur stares at him with a mix of anger, fear and sympathy. "He turned me into a monstrosity that should never be near people! How can I go on with my life as if it never happened, when the mere thought sight of the moon makes me afraid of what I could do to you or our girls?"

Bill stops, tears cascading from his eyes. Fleur gets closer to him and envelopes Bill in a hug. She cries, too, feeling powerless. For all her good intentions, she can't help him.

"I'm not like Remus was," Bill breathes out, terror on his eyes. "I might not be a full wolf, but you know I can't control myself during those nights."

"I know."

And she does. Bill never transforms during the full moon nights, but violent displays are not unusual in their home. Most of the time, behind locked doors to avoid being seen or heard by Victoire and Dominique. Glamour charms and make-up are used as a disguise for the bruises Fleur gets from being near him, but she refuses to leave him alone.

There isn't much left to say, both of them knowing the situation fully well. Fleur leads Bill to the couch and sits on his lap, like they used to do in their dates. His head meets her breast, and he lets her play with his hair; Fleur knows it always calms him.

"I know what you are, Bill," whispers Fleur. "And you are not a monster. You're one of the heroes who responded the call that night; who helped Hogwarts live another day. And you did it twice, Bill, without asking for anything. Those scars and the moon do not define you."

Bill tries to smile, and Fleur appreciates that he's trying, but the lost expression on his eyes break her heart.

"It's not that easy."

"I know, love, but we've got so far..." Fleur tells him with hope in her voice. "We can do it, Bill. You can do it. Just don't forget that even if the moon comes out, the sun will rise again."

This time Bill's smile is real, but small. It doesn't reach his eyes, but that's enough for Fleur. At least for now.


End file.
